Skip to main content

Light Should Have a Constant Velocity

Oh lotus flower, you smell of Woody Harrelson. Woody Harrelson smells of grown old in front. Old in front is Bruce Willis, and that whole male pattern baldness that we call home. He will be a monster again. Again we note the lotus flower. It holds the latest hottie. Hotties are pragmatic reaction to a 2-dimensional world. Worlds are keen balls of slacking water and light fills sidewise, like moonlight on a plum. Plums are rich in insistence. Who can forget their first plum? Woody Harrelson could not, he is international. So is Bruce Willis, like that tsunami that washed over Asia. The cat on this bed is a plectrum, thus can be associated with the implement in the hand of Duane Allman. The blues is a colander that holds lettuce or spinach while cleansing water rushes into the sink. The sink represents Bruce Willis owning pop culture. Pop culture represents lotus flower. Lotus flowers envelope Buddha-like factotums such as Woody Harrelson.

Do you see?

Do you see?

Do you see?

A poem allows Fu Manchu and his world shaking energy. You as a reader must insert yourself into that equation. A poem cannot do all the work.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fine Political Summation

  jagged resemblance to truth  floridly spring flowers pang  rock crusted ontological squat  serious stubborn box conclusion  peppered trail pending slower  overage undone of starting on  It's a holy war royal ooze  Stoop Herd Toxic tocsin  I’ll oil decline wall burn  bum burn bum

A List of Words

It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.

The Left of Intention

Blistered arrangement in Obama's plant. That plant is excised with cultured cells looking for the sun. Obama brands name in this stampede, and we leak alert. A new orange smokes upon the evening landscape, parlance for yesterday, then blue over the gushing land today. Stay happy with Obama, or paralax, or the motion across the kitchen floor, of something. Something secret leaves the hives. Something secret seeks the plant. The plant is poised like anything. Tussle continues, with new verbs vectoring the continuation. Obama bravely last the night, sweatshop slogan. Our President, haply, but effort contorts all known regions of meaning. The South, for instance, the West, the North and its East, and so on, dilations. There was a lake above. A blue and now it is shining morning lake. It was above, like the cat, or even more, when we are attuned. Obama battles with all words, Even as the proposition institutes some collision hardly to be compelled. All this exceeds ramifications. Our Pr...